


bad idea

by soulshrapnel



Series: Villainous Kinktober fills 2020 [21]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Lime, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27134416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulshrapnel/pseuds/soulshrapnel
Summary: "If you must distract me," Vader had growled a few minutes ago - when, to be fair, she had definitely been checking him out - "with prurient thoughts, instead of attending to your work, then perhaps I willsatisfyyourcuriosity."(Kinktober, Day 21: Size difference)
Relationships: Chelli Lona Aphra/Darth Vader
Series: Villainous Kinktober fills 2020 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947379
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	bad idea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bittennails](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittennails/gifts).



> Prompt by [bittennails](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittennails): _"Vader-centric (pairing of your choice) with size-difference."_
> 
> I was like "Hmm, who do we know who's smol, and hangs around Vader a lot, and could plausibly consent to something sexy with him?" and there was an obvious answer...

If anyone had asked Dr. Aphra exactly how she'd ended up like this, pressed against the ship's wall and going to second base with _actual kriffing Darth Vader_ , she would have shrugged and said _haha it's a really long story, how much time have you got?_

"If you must distract me," Vader had growled a few minutes ago - when, to be fair, she had definitely been checking him out - "with prurient thoughts, instead of attending to your work, then perhaps I will _satisfy_ your _curiosity._ "

Now his breath echoed loud in the air around her, and she was trapped between the wall and his bulk. Her hands were busy in the softer parts of his suit, the strange layers of fabric at his sides. Aphra had no idea how much Vader could feel, but she was definitely feeling him. His hands were big enough to wrap around her skinny ribcage like a toy, one digging into her hip and the other mauling a breast. The weight of him - it couldn't _really_ have been the weight of him, because if Darth Vader actually lay down on Aphra he'd probably break every bone in her body, but there was a steady force in those strong limbs that felt like weight. His knee, covered with the top edge of one of those big cyborg fuck-me boots, had pressed its way between her thighs and parted them.

Aphra was barely over five feet tall, and she normally went for women about her own size. She was having trouble adjusting to just how much bigger Vader was. Like, really, how tall was he, seven feet? She couldn't even crane her neck high enough to kiss him. Not that it would have mattered, because that weird mask definitely did not have the kind of sense receptors that would care if she kissed it. Honestly, Aphra wasn't completely sure what she was supposed to do.

Vader had already pulled off the vest she habitually wore, and now he shoved one of those big, gloved hands up under her shirt, pushing the fabric up. He was rough and efficient, going directly for what he wanted. Aphra was pretty sure the way she panted against him was partly fear. But, _ooh,_ those gloves felt neat against her skin. They looked like leather, but they felt more like - armorweave? Probably armorweave.

"Want me to just strip?" she suggested.

"Leave that to me," said Vader. He yanked the shirt further up, so hard that the force of it pulled her away from the wall, balanced precariously in his grasp and braced against his thigh. She tried, experimentally, grinding against his leg. That felt good. This whole bad idea felt good.

"So, what," she said, wriggling against him, "are you gonna strip too? Is that a thing you do? How does-"

He pulled her up abruptly further, by her waist and her hips and the underside of both legs; it took a confused half second of _wait how many hands does this guy have_ before she realized he'd done it with the Force. He'd taken her away from the satisfying friction of his thigh, and into a position where her legs wrapped around his waist instead.

"Be silent," Vader snapped.

Gosh, he was big. Even raised up like this she was still below his eye level. Aphra considered herself pretty flexible, but he'd placed her knees to either side of his waist, and that was a bit of a strain.

"I should, uh, warn you, Lord Vader. I can actually get pretty loud."

"I had not noticed." He ran his hand up her body again, a little more deliberately this time. Her entire shoulder fit in his palm. His other hand went to her face, trailed over her lips, and down - _yikes please not the neck, I know what you do with necks, you freak_ \- but no, he stopped before he went that far down. He pressed an armorweave-wrapped knuckle to her jaw, instead.

Aphra bit at it. Her teeth made no dent in the armorweave - it would have been shitty armorweave if it did - but she chomped down ferociously anyway, and that gave Vader just enough friction to pull his hand back. The glove slowly slid off of him, falling to the floor as Aphra relaxed her jaw, and the hand that emerged was fascinating. Not a flesh hand but a really high-end prosthetic, all shiny chrome and intricate joints. She'd heard before that Vader was mostly machine, but she hadn't _seen_ this part of the machine before. She immediately wanted to take it apart.

He pressed that to her mouth again, more gently than before. She kissed it with her lips this time, flicking out her tongue. Vader tasted like the metal he was.

"Well, doctor?" Vader purred in that deep bass voice of his. "Is your curiosity satisfied?"

Aphra grinned. "Not yet."

This was a terrible idea. For all sorts of reasons. Good thing terrible ideas were Dr. Aphra's specialty.

Vader's gloved hand tightened around the curve of Aphra's ass. Her belt telekinetically undid itself and dropped to the floor. She pushed her hips forward as he reached for her trousers with that metal hand. He pressed his fingers down inside them.

Aphra went ahead and got loud.


End file.
